And So He Went...

Early on a Shabbat (Saturday) morning the kids and I took Daddy to work. Dressed in his desert combat uniform, hauling his packed up A-Bag, this was the final goodbye. Our children- Amariah 6 months, Anthony Jr 3 years, and Alexandria 5 years old, all thought it was another regular day. I am pretty sure I was just in complete shock. We did not spend much time at the unit where all the soldiers were saying their goodbyes, but I admit I drove around aimlessly for another few hours after I kissed him farewell. I kept watching where his airplane was, waiting for it to takeoff. I had to know when his actual presence was no longer on the military base. My heart sank when it lifted into the air, I was completely mortified. I took on this motherly type of despair over him having to leave to Iraq. I knew, even in all of my ignorance, that the ways we felt together, the type of father he was, and his bubbly personality and outlook on life would all change. I was not sure how it would necessarily manifest, or even that there was a guarantee of his return. But the fear of death was not even comparably as strong as the grief I felt over his impending loss of innocence. The anxiety and terror of an unknown change about to commence was deep, heavy, and still with me today because the lingering effects are still sorting themselves out. I was at that moment, and still feel to some degree now, on my own.

During the months of February through June of 2003, we carried on with Amariah as normal. I made fusses over wonderful activities we could all do together, Alexandria started officially home schooling with a structured curriculum as a Kindergartner, and we got our first family computer *gasp.* We had a great friends we did things with often whom to this day we all talk about fondly. When serious tornados came through Ft. Campbell, we slept over in their basement, we attended a NASCAR race, saw Opryland a couple of times, and journeyed to a baseball game in Nashville. Her kids treated mine like family, they taught them things like they were their older brothers and sisters. We all love them dearly. Bonding over a serious deployment is a powerful thing. In between those moments I was glued to the media about the war. Every network had a reporter on site somewhere, and I thought somehow someone must be attached to my husband's truck. I never found one, and hearing all of the stories broadcasted was not proving to be a very good thing. Today, a lot of veterans speak of email communication and phone calls between spouses, neither of which we had. It was the good ole send a letter in the mail deal for my husband and I. Personally, I think this is healthy, and I also think less media coverage is healthy. I continued caring for Amariah as I did my other two children during this time... but come April and May I was beginning to ask questions. Why isn't she as mobile as my other two children were? Why hasn't she learned to roll over yet? She sleeps a lot,... is everything ok? And the doctors began looking harder and started ordering developmental assesments. My husband was fighting a war, pushing through Baghdad and Mosul, and I was about to be given news I never, ever, wanted to hear in my lifetime,... 

*"And So He Went" is a continuation of Her Story, which can be read in it's entirety here.

Snap: Iraq 2003

Recently a pic turned up from a friend my husband served with of his truck in Iraq....Yep, that's him, right in the middle of that war. Fascinating to me. 

Her Story

The Distraction of Army Service

As we enjoyed our third daughter growing at home, news surrounded the post 9-11 scene in America. Rumors of wars and threats emanating from Iraq were increasing. It was then our family took a holiday trip back to Texas, in January of 2003. We visited Austin where my parents had recently moved. We visited the Alamo in San Antonio and enjoyed the company of relatives that were normally so far away. Having been on our own in Tennessee was marvelous, seeing close family intermittently was more appropriate and workable for us. We were growing together as a new little family so much more, and it felt healthy. This little jaunt back to Texas had come about suddenly, it was good timing according to my husband's unit command. How naive I was not to realize why. During our long drive back home he got a call on our cell phone. It was "the" call. Friends from his unit on the other end confirmed, as soon as my husband returned, they were to prepare for deployment. I don't know why as an infantryman's wife I was stunned into disbelief. I looked at him as we drove, full of fear and sadness. It was our first deployment as a couple, well at all. It was HIS first combat deployment. This was not the back forty or a training exercise, this was it, the Middle East. I had a couple more weeks left with him, and they were not as he or I would have imagined they would be. No. Pre-deployment is a horrible thing. Couples go through a cycle that is not gratifying at all...what I imagined would be some surreal time of staring longingly into each other's eyes and cherishing every moment (laugh out loud) was not so...

"Stage 1. Pre-deployment

The onset of this stage begins with the warning order for deployment. This stage ends when the Soldier actually departs from home station.

This stage is characterized alternately by denial and anticipation of loss. As the departure date gets closer, spouses often ask: "You don't really have to go, do you?" Eventually, the increased field training, preparation, and long hours away from home herald the extended separation that is to come. Soldiers energetically talk more and more about the upcoming mission and their unit. This "bonding" to fellow Soldiers is essential to unit cohesion that is necessary for a safe and successful deployment. Yet, it also creates an increasing sense of emotional and physical distance for military spouses. In their frustration, many spouses complain: "I wish you were gone already." It is as if their loved ones are already "psychologically deployed." 

As the reality of the deployment finally sinks in, the Soldier and Family try to get their affairs in order. Long "honey-do" lists are generated dealing with all manner of issues. At the same time, many couples strive for increased intimacy. Plans are made for the "best" Christmas, the "perfect" vacation, or the "most" romantic anniversary. In contrast, there may be some ambivalence about sexual relations: "this is it for a year, but I do not want to be that close." Fears about fidelity or marital integrity are raised or may go unspoken. Other frequently voiced concerns may include: "How will the children handle the separation? Can I cope without him/her? Will my marriage survive?" In this very busy and tumultuous time, resolving all these issues, completing the multitude of tasks or fulfilling high expectations often falls short. 

A common occurrence, just prior to deployment, is for Soldiers and their spouses to have a significant argument. For younger couples, especially those experiencing an extended separation for the first time, such an argument can take on "catastrophic" proportions. Fears that the relationship is over can lead to tremendous anxiety for both Soldier and spouse. In retrospect, these arguments are most likely caused by the stress of the pending separation. From a psychological perspective, it is easier to be angry than confront the pain and loss of saying goodbye.

However, the impact of unresolved Family concerns can have potentially devastating consequences. From a command perspective, a worried, preoccupied Soldier is easily distracted and unable to focus on essential tasks during the critical movement of heavy military equipment. In the worst-case scenario, this can lead to a serious accident or the development of a Soldier stress casualty who is mission ineffective. On the home front, significant spousal distress interferes with completing basic routines, concentrating at work, and attending to the needs of children. At worst, this can exacerbate children's fears that the parents are unable to adequately care for them or even that the Soldier will not return. Adverse reactions by children can include inconsolable crying, apathy, tantrums, and other regressive behaviors. In response, a downward spiral can develop in which both Soldier and spouse become even more upset at the prospect of separating."

My husband was home and I wanted it to stay that way. I realize we were in the wrong profession for that to be a realistic expectation, but I was an idealist. I had hoped after he joined it would be the years our country wasn't going to get into any war. Rewind to the year he enlisted, February 2001. Three months after his jump training ended and our arrival to the first duty station, September 11 occurred. The beginning of my little idealistic bubble, bursting. Back to January 2003, three kids and a close call on a scary delivery, I was preparing to say goodbye indefinitely to the man who endured with me and the love of my life. 

*This entry is a continuation from the complete story of our daughter's life. See the entire 'Her Story' here

Pre-Deployment information from: 'The Emotional Cycle of Deployment: A Military Family Perspective' By:  LTC Simon H. Pincus, USA, MC, COL Robert House, USAR, MC, LTC Joseph Christenson, USA, MC, and CAPT Lawrence E. Adler, MC, USNR-R